Everything was not as it appeared in the Madigan home though. Jill loved her husband with all her heart but she had needs that he could never understand or fill. Before she had met and fell in love with her husband she had been meeting with an older black man for sex in a somewhat surreptitious relationship. She knew she could never be with a black man without losing her family and friends back then. While race relations had improved a lot by the 1990’s her relatives and close friends and their families still did not believe in the races mingling sexually or intermarrying.
That thought fills me with a molten heat, a burning within my soul to feel that hotness erupting inside me. My hand quickens it rubbing of my clit and my other presses three fingers as far as possible into my clenching cauldron of pleasure. I feel the first tremors of orgasm as I watch his thighs tighten and lift, cock stiffening and his large glans swelling like a stallion trumpeting! Like an exploding volcano it erupts, sending long streaming ribbons of his pearlescent thick cum rocketing upwards like cannon-shot. His hands stroke quickly, sporadically, as his asscheeks squeeze, hips rising and body trembling before relaxing and settling back into his seat. Each tensing uplifting sends another thick glob of ecstasy streaming like a comet, its tail trailing from his pulsing tip. His urgency relieved his balls continue to pump the seemingly endless supply of his molten lava from his tip.
My entire body quakes as I think of him erupting so arduously deep in my womb. I hear the squishing of his hands as they continue stroking amidst the overflow of his balls as it flows down his long shaft to coat his pumping hands, lubricating them. That sight has me rolling and fingering my pussy until my whole body is tensed in an orgasm unlike any I’ve ever felt roil my mind. My eyes close and I tremble and shake for what seems hours as hard spasms rock my world, and all I can do is hold my hand tightly against my mound and squeeze my thighs and moan loudly, hips rocking back and forth in unison with my spasming pleasure.
It was not always easy to control her desires, but the responsibility of being a mother and raising her son by herself weighed heavily on her. She learned to repress her sexual urges, except in the privacy of her own bedroom. She had a collection of sex toys, movies and her diary, where she described her past life, her youthful sexual encounters, and all of the dirty fantasies and nasty thoughts she has had. It was her only release, and it kept her from living her life like the horny little slut she actually was.
Her son, Josh, now fifteen, knew nothing of her past. However, his young, teenage, hormones were raging and he lived with a hot, attractive woman. After all, he was young and constantly horny, and he was very curious about the opposite sex. At 5’ 11”, he towered over his mother and naturally began to steal glances down her blouse to ogle at her cleavage and full breasts. He also loved her fat ass and even tried to peek up her short skirts; to see the soft treasures she tried to keep hidden from his view. Images of his mother began to creep into his frequent masturbation sessions…